


Let Go

by pyxystyx



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F, Platonic Soulmates, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyxystyx/pseuds/pyxystyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana does something drastic, and Leona struggles to understand why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! Please be gentle :)
> 
> I've always found the dynamic between Diana and Leona really fascinating, because the two of them are both symbols of the gods they worship, and sometimes the symbol overshadows the person.

"Solari."

Leona looks up from her plate in surprise. Even the other champions of the League rarely talk to her, which is probably for the best, since she's a terrible conversationalist. She locks eyes with Diana, doing her best not to let her gaze flicker to the pale scar on the woman's forehead. Her blood surges, and she feels her hands clench involuntarily into fists.

"What do you want, Diana?"

Diana looks away from her, staring into the distance at nothing, while she marshals her words. Talking to people is always like this for her.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," Diana forces out. "To you."

"Are you going somewhere?" Leona keeps her voice flat and level, with difficulty. Even looking at Diana brings back painful memories.

"Yeah," Diana says. She's looking anywhere but Leona's face.

"Safe travels," Leona replies, but Diana has already turned her back.

\-----

That evening, a knock comes at Leona's door.

"Come in," she says, and to her surprise, the Starchild has come visiting. Soraka is one of the few people Leona feels like she understands, but she isn't given to visiting, which means something unusual is afoot. Leona shuts the door, and Soraka extends her hand to her, holding something in her clenched fist.

Leona reaches out with a gauntleted hand, and a tiny necklace drops into her glove: entwined symbols of sun and moon, an exact image of the ghastly scar on Diana's forehead. Leona knows this necklace; she has never seen Diana not wearing it.

"Diana asked me to give this to you after moonrise tonight," Soraka explains. "Do you know what it means?"

Leona closes her fist around the amulet.

"No, but I'm sure it's not good."

She and Soraka look at each other for a second, and it's clear that Soraka has come to the same conclusion.

"I think we'd better go check on Diana," says Leona.

\-----

Leona pounds on the door to Diana's suite. Diana lives in an otherwise deserted wing of the Institute, and there's nobody else around who might be disturbed by the noise, not that Leona cares one way or the other right now. There is no answer from inside.

"She's hurt," Soraka says. The healing magic that bubbles through her is drawing her, compelling her, towards the door to Diana's suite. Someone on the other side is hurt, and badly.

Leona grimaces. This is improper of her, and quite rude to boot, but she has to know that Diana's okay. She braces her shoulder against the door and shoves. The doors in the Institute are more for privacy than security, and the aged wood gives way before two hundred pounds of war-hardened muscle. Leona almost loses her balance as she stumbles through the doorframe. When she looks up, her next breath catches in her throat.

Diana is slumped on the balcony of her suite, sitting crosslegged, facing towards the moon. It looks for all the world like she's fallen asleep while meditating, except that she's in the middle of a large and growing pool of blood.

"Diana!"

Leona rushes to her side, grabs one of her shoulders, and shakes her gently, but Diana is unconscious. From here, she can see a knife lying next to Diana's leg, and that there is so very much blood, coming from somewhere under the armor Diana wears. Leona is no stranger to war and death, but to see Diana like this makes her want to be sick.

Soraka falls to her knees next to them, ignoring the crimson stain that begins to spread through her own tunic.

"Get her onto her back," Soraka says. "I need to see where she's bleeding."

Diana offers no resistance as Leona gently pushes her onto her back and stretches out her legs. She coughs once, wetly, and blood bubbles from her mouth. Soraka crouches over her, moving her hands a few inches above Diana, letting her magic guide her. Seen this way, Leona is a pulsing spectre of bright energy, all greens and blues, healthy and strong, and Diana is -

There. An ugly blotch of red stains the inside of Diana's abdomen, and its tendrils reach outward through her entire body. Soraka laces her hands above the injury and lets her own lifeforce flow into Diana, while Leona can do nothing but watch and pray.

\-----

It feels like hours to Leona. She watches helplessly while the Starchild struggles to save the woman Leona has already failed to save once before. She grits her teeth, clenches her fists, and does her best to stay still and silent so she won't impair Soraka's concentration. Healing magic doesn't work in real life the same way it does on the Rift, and this will not be quick or easy.

Eventually, Soraka sits back, drawing her hooves underneath herself, barely conscious from her exertion. Her skin is unnaturally pale and waxy under the moonlight, and her breath comes in uneven pants. Soraka heals by giving of herself, and she has given all that she can.

"She'll live, probably," Soraka says, and Leona grimaces.

"Are you alright?" asks Leona, quietly.

Soraka nods, shakily. "I need to... to eat and sleep, I think."

Leona looks back over at Diana, still lying unconscious on her back, and then to Soraka again. She can't offer to come with Soraka, much as she'd like to. Someone should be here with Diana when she wakes, and there's nobody else it can be. Still, Leona stands, and offers Soraka her arm. The Starchild takes it and pulls herself unsteadily upright.

"Will you make it back to your room?"

"Probably," smiles Soraka.

Leona takes Soraka's hand and squeezes tightly - the highest form of affection she allows herself to show anyone.

"Thank you," she breathes, and her eyes are on Diana.

\-----

There's nothing left to do now but wait and see if Diana wakes up. Leona sits against the wall of Diana's suite, as close to Diana as she can be, and pulls her knees to her chest. She can't stand the feeling of leaving this in the hands of fate, but anything else she might do now would only make it worse. She sits, watching Diana's shallow breathing, and commands herself to be still in the moonlight.

An age passes.

Diana coughs, once, a wet, hacking sound that startles Leona from her trance. As she watches, Diana slowly blinks herself awake, stares at the ceiling for a moment, then shuts her eyes again and exhales loudly.

"Why are you here," she says, flatly. It's not so much a question as an expression of regret.

Leona doesn't say anything. She reaches out with one hand, and gently places the sun-and-moon amulet on Diana's breastplate.

Diana opens her eyes again and looks up at Leona. Her face is paler than usual, but her skin glows in the moonlight, and the scar on her forehead is radiant.

"Why," Diana chokes out again, and this time the corners of her eyes are glittering with tears.

There are many true answers. Because Leona won't let herself fail Diana twice. Because, although they aren't friends, Leona is somehow incomplete without Diana. Because Diana deserves better than to die like this.

"You needed me," Leona says, simply.

Diana swallows and turns her face away from Leona.

"I've needed you before," she replies, her voice uneven, her breath unsteady.

Leona knows this. She hasn't forgiven herself for not being there for Diana, during her training, during her climb up the mountain, during her... confrontation with the Solari elders. Probably she never will be able to.

"I know," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

Silence hangs between them.

"You should rest," says Leona, "and regain your strength."

Diana looks at her and swallows.

"And if I don't want to?"

Leona squats next to Diana and loops one arm under her back and one under her knees. Diana is far lighter than she should be, even with her armor. She gets to her feet, cradling Diana against her, and carries her easily to Diana's unmade bed. The sheets will have to be casualties - Diana is still slick with her own drying blood - but they are just things, and Diana is a person. She sets her down gently, like she's making an offering, then sits on the floor with her back resting against Diana's bedframe, knees drawn up close to her again.

"I'll protect you," Leona says, "even from yourself, if I have to."

Diana shuts her eyes, as if she can hold the tears back that way, but neither says anything further, and soon Diana's breathing evens out into the steady rhythm of sleep.

\-----

Morning comes, and Leona feels the first rays of the sun warming her. Her armor isn't comfortable to sit in and her body aches, but she's borne far worse before with no complaint.

Diana sleeps through the day, and Leona stays with her the entire time. That evening, Diana wakes with the moonrise. She lifts her head and immediately spots Leona sitting by the side of her bed.

"You're still here," she says, and Leona can't tell if she means "get out" or "thank you".

"I won't leave you," Leona says, shoving her own hunger and fatigue away. It's important that Diana understands, and she can bear a growling stomach and aching eyes for that.

Diana lies in bed silently, staring at the visible moon through her window, and Leona wonders if she's sleeping, or in the trance like sleeping where she lets the moon hollow her out and fill her up with purpose and drive. It's impossible to tell except that Diana's eyes are open.

Eventually, breaking the quiet, Diana says "I'm really hungry."

"The Institute cafeteria is open," Leona says, and they share a grimace. The Institute's food is... functional, to put it politely; nutritious and solid and generally utterly bland. Still, any port in a storm.

Diana appears uncertain for a moment, then she swallows.

"Go with me?", she half-whispers, and Leona answers her with a smile and an extended arm.

\-----

Diana slumps back onto her bed, fed but still unsteady on her feet. Leona stands in the doorway to her chamber - now repaired by one of the countless helpful spirits that seem to inhabit the Institute - with her question on her face.

Diana rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling, lost in thought, or maybe just pointedly ignoring Leona until she gets fed up and leaves. She will leave, Diana knows. Everyone leaves.

Leona leans against the doorframe, waiting.

Minutes pass.

Leona gives in first.

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

Diana rolls onto her side, facing Leona, and just studies her, as if trying to read her intentions off her face. She's fairly sure Leona doesn't want anything to do with her, not really, but she's still here out of some sick sense of duty. Diana shouldn't try to use it to hold on to her, won't.

"You don't have to," she says, and it's true but it's not everything that is true. "I'll be okay."

There. She has released Leona from her imaginary obligations, and now the towering Solari can leave her, again, for good. Diana turns to face the wall of her room and squeezes her eyes shut against the tears she feels welling. She doesn't want Leona to see the emotions on her face, and she can't bear the thought of seeing her back, the closed door, her lonely suite.

Leona steps inside, and shuts the door behind her. Diana listens intently as Leona crosses the room and sits by the side of Diana's narrow bed.

"I said you don't have to," mutters Diana, keeping her voice as level as she can.

"I know, but I want to," replies Leona.

\-----

Leona slumps against the side of Diana's bed and rests her head on her knees. She hasn't slept in two and a half days, now, and has only eaten once, when she accompanied Diana to the cafeteria. For her part, Diana lies on her back, staring silently out the window at the face of her goddess, and in the silence sleep claims Leona.

An hour or so later, Leona jerks awake. Sleeping in her full plate isn't comfortable even when she's lying down, and doing so in this position is a recipe for aches. The sound pulls Diana from her reverie. Without moving her gaze an inch, she quietly asks:

"Can't sleep?"

Leona says nothing. She's not giving Diana an excuse to send her away, not now, with the memory of almost losing someone she's never really tried to hold onto so fresh in her mind.

Diana sits up, stretching.

"You can have the bed," she says, as though Leona had acknowledged what they both know to be true. "I'm going to sit on the balcony anyway."

Diana sits crosslegged, gazing at the moon, letting Her light bathe her. She does not look back as Leona carefully takes off her armor, piece by piece. She does not look back as Leona curls up on her unmade bed. Finally, when Leona's breathing has become steady and slow, and Diana is absolutely sure she's asleep, she turns to look at her other half. When Leona sleeps, her determined expression fades, and her face reminds Diana of when they were both younger and knew nothing of war, or treason, or death.

If Diana could feel such things, she thinks, she might find herself loving Leona. Of all the things she gave up - or had taken from her - when she became the moon's chosen, this is the one she regrets the most. She wishes, not for the first time, that she was as strong, as brave, or as singlemindedly devoted as Leona is. Diana has surrendered many parts of herself to become something greater than she was, but it has left her... incomplete. Diana is incomplete. Her devotion to her goddess fills her and energizes her and gives her her reason for living, but there are other parts of her, of the old her, that are empty and cold. Sometimes Diana wishes She would simply burn the rest of what she used to be away, to make her a singular and perfect vessel for Her will, a puppet without a mind, because being broken this way aches.

\-----

Leona awakes as the sunrise washes over Diana's bed. Normally Diana sleeps with thick curtains pulled to, so the sun won't disturb her, but today they have been thrown open. The familiar thrill and warmth and sheer joy of the sun rush through her, just for a moment, and she smiles. She sits up, stretches, and finds Diana asleep on the other side of the bed, still wearing her stylized plate mail. Leona has never seen Diana without her armor, not since her... transformation, and she's not sure Diana can even remove it.

Diana is still asleep, and Leona is ravenous. She gets to her feet, makes as little noise as possible buckling her armor back on, then stops to draw the thick curtains before she goes to find breakfast.

\-----

Diana yawns herself awake in pleasing darkness. Through her heavy curtains, she can see the shape of Leona sitting on her balcony, sunning herself. She drags herself upright, runs a hand through her hair, and opens the curtains. Leona is crosslegged, armored again, eyes closed, with a blissful smile on her face. When Diana parts the curtains, Leona does not look up, but gestures beside her with one hand. Diana sits next to her and Leona lets out a slow breath.

The sun's too bright, and the balcony is too small not to touch Leona. Diana sits next to her, and to her surprise, Leona reaches for Diana's hand without looking, takes it, and squeezes. Her gauntleted hand envelops Diana's and the coppery metal is warm to the touch. Diana is too stunned to do anything other than sit and let Leona hold on.

"I need to ask you why," Leona says, her voice unexpectedly thick with emotion.

"Why what?", replies Diana. Her attention is on her left hand, clutched in Leona's right. It is the first time in recent memory that someone has touched her, deliberately, without meaning her harm. At least, Diana hopes she doesn't mean her harm.

"Why you did it," Leona says, eyes still closed, skin still aglow.

Diana swallows. Should she lie? Does she even know the truth?

She squeezes Leona's hand, and hopes the Solari can feel it through the steel.

"I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

Diana looks down at her own lap. Maybe Leona's looking at her now, and if she is, Diana can't bear to see her face while she tells this truth.

"Being alone," she whispers, hating herself for the tears gathering in her eyes.

\-----

Leona is so stunned that she can't think of anything to say. It doesn't seem like Diana is even capable of feeling loneliness. Usually she goes to pains to isolate herself from everyone, to keep herself secluded, out of sight, out of mind. Is there anyone else Diana talks to, other than her?

"I thought that's what you wanted," Leona said, and only her iron will keeps tears from her own eyes.

Diana rests her head in her hands, eyes downcast.

"I don't know," she says, refusing to look at Leona. "Sometimes I... sometimes I don't need anything but Her to feel... complete, but sometimes I feel so..."

Leona squeezes her hand.

"I wish I was like you," Diana finishes.

"Like me?" She can scarcely believe the words came out of Diana's mouth.

"You don't need anyone," Diana says, "and so when I do, I feel so... weak. Like your transformation was more complete than mine."

Leona swallows. Her heartbeat suddenly seems loud in her chest. Diana doesn't want to be alone, but she avoids everyone, because... oh.

"I'm sorry," says Leona. She can't love anyone - the way the sun fills her heart leaves her without the ability or the desire - but she still feels a deep emotion towards Diana that is hard to describe or understand. There's guilt there, old but still freshly painful, for the time when Diana needed her most and she wasn't there, but underneath that, Leona thinks of the slender Lunari as her younger sister.

"It's not your fault," says Diana.

Leona knows what she needs to do, now. She swallows and gathers herself. She does not give her word lightly, and she has to be sure she means this.

A silent moment passes. Diana's entire attention is focused on the feel of Leona's hand in hers.

Leona can't promise that she'll stay with Diana. Both of them have their parts to play in the ancient balance of power, as sun chases moon and moon chases sun; both of them are lesser and greater than they were when they were first friends. Their paths may diverge, some day, and Leona won't hold Diana back any more than she'd allow Diana to hold her back.

"You mean more to me than you know, Diana," Leona says, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

Diana shifts, until she's leaning against Leona, head resting on the warm coppery metal of Leona's spaulder. It feels good, reassuring, that Leona will allow this. Diana hasn't been this close to anyone else in some time.

She reaches up to her own neck, and undoes the clasp of her amulet, the twined moon and sun of the Lunari. The Solari never understood, never bothered to understand, why the symbol of the Lunari includes the sun as well as their beloved moon. Diana knows, of course.

Slowly, she reaches around Leona's neck, then fastens her amulet there. Leona takes it in her free hand and looks at it in wonderment.

"Why?", she says, staring at the tiny slivers of crystal.

Diana leans against Leona's side, eyes closed against the glare of the sun, breathing steady.

"Because the moon needs light from the sun to glow," she says.

Leona puts an arm around Diana's shoulders and pulls her close, and her other hand closes tightly around the amulet, and a slow smile graces her face as she understands.

End


End file.
